Hell Poems
1317
by Grace McDonough
Is death an ancient ache
Like this one
The dull rattle in the murderous cavern
Lined with resin and dust and tar and pure guts
A reminder of the last cigar
Of our bruised and battered makeup
Is death the embrace of silence
This stillness that permeates
My rotten cavities
......
dead horse surgery
by Grace McDonough
You are not the one I hate.
In fact,
I loved that blue eye--
I saw it in my sleep
I see it before me.
Your hands were not the ones I wished to escape.
They were long,
Strong,
Kind sometimes.
......
the river sticks
by Grace McDonough
Eternal nothing would be a gift
Why do i spend this time fearing it
It could be a welcomed feeling
I’d let it in
And brush its cheek
Let it enter me--
Bear it.
The river will guide me down
To the hell
......
Not Every Soul Makes It…
by Jeffrey Pipes Guice
Save me from myself, dear God...
And from my wretched past...
I’ve paid the ultimate penance...
In this inferno of hell ever last...
I’ve learned the important lessons...
From all my evil ways...
Give my soul some peace, dear God...
In these long and final days...
......
ssdrf
by Adriano Radaasdfjk
Continue readingThe ShitIceberg
by Igor Vykhovanets
Politics — the iceberg's tip:
Beneath, the beasts in shadows slip.
Let's delve into this vile abyss,
If your mind's not lost in the mist.
Three-quarters sick, mere human scraps,
Once people, now in mental traps.
Poisoned by the filth they fed,
Described herein — absorb what's said.
......
The Tale Is Gone
by Igor Vykhovanets
Cracked Wide Open
Shell so thick and hollow,
Made of pure deceit.
What's inside? Just sorrow,
Fear, and false conceit.
Cramped and dim the space is
Underneath the shell.
Fear has left its traces,
......
Light in the Night
by Igor Vykhovanets
The WHAT is naught, the HOW is slight,
Yet things should work a different way.
And what we have? A rotten blight—
To cast it out’s the grandest play.
-------------------------
......
Pseudo-Science
by Igor Vykhovanets
"The Free World"
In mythic "free world" fools reside,
Without any doubts they all collide.
And in this world, they forge the hell,
Where rulers, crooks, are known too well.
The Creature buy their souls away—
To make of these the bleak array.
Fake ills it spread cloud foolish mind,
......
8. Hell is your home
by Kea Campbell
Hell is your home.
But I live here, with the blessed.
Saturday 20 April 2022
